


Easing the Burden of Destiny

by h_d



Category: Children of Men (2006), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, BAMF Merlin, Crossover, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_d/pseuds/h_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No children have been born in 22 years, and humanity has lost all hope.  Morgana has visions of Emrys, but Arthur doesn't understand until he meets Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Merlin Mpreg](http://merlinmpreg.livejournal.com/) 2014 Fest, for [prompt #14](http://merlinmpreg.livejournal.com/37458.html). Thank you to my amazing beta, [Val_Creative](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative), for showing an unbelievable amount of patience with me, and for all of your valuable help and advice! Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Further warnings: The violence is not overly explicit, but I wanted to be completely safe and use the archive warning. There is one mention of blood, and there are multiple on-screen minor character deaths. The "mental health issues" tag refers both to Morgana, who has some paranoia, and to Arthur, who suffers from depression. Please be aware that this fic takes place in a dystopian AU, and it includes the off-screen death of a child, off-screen deaths of other minor characters, and references to pandemics. 
> 
> The T rating is for strong language, violence, and mild innuendo. I hesitated a lot over whether to rate this T or M.
> 
> You definitely don't need to be familiar with the plot of Children of Men in order to follow this fic. I took the premise of the movie and interpreted it very loosely, but the idea is fully explained within the story.
> 
> Like the movie, this fic is set in the near future, about 2043, although technology has regressed somewhat in comparison to today. Please see the end notes for specifics on the timeline (there's a minor spoiler for the fic, though).

"The youngest person in the world, Jacob Mills, 23, died yesterday, in Birmingham," the radio newsreader droned in her passionless voice. "Mr. Mills was confirmed dead at 11:30 PM, succumbing to injuries sustained during a pub brawl. Like all those of his generation, Mr. Mills had enjoyed a lifestyle of relative ease, but faced resentment. We now go live to our Birmingham feed."

Arthur turned off his radio and got out of bed to start his day. It had been six months since the last murder of that kind. Arthur had hoped, faintly, that those kinds of killings had come to an end. There was murder every day, of course, a lot of it. And some people revered the young, but many others, like Arthur's father, Uther, hated them. 

Arthur didn't know how anyone even summoned up strong feelings, now. He was empty inside and had been for a long time. So were most people.

The future was gone, eaten up, and no one even knew the name or the nature of the monster who had done it. _Like Ragnarok,_ Arthur thought grimly, _like Fenrir swallowing the sun._

\------

It had been 22 years since a baby was born. Arthur was only 14 when it happened, but his older sister Morgana already had a husband and a toddler, Mordred. Arthur and Morgana had different mothers, both long since dead.

Every day after school, Arthur went to Morgana's house to play with him. He balanced Mordred atop his knees, and Mordred stretched out his arms and pretended to fly.

"I'm an airplane, uncle," he said, making sound effects. Arthur laughed and his heart soared, as high as an airplane itself.

When Mordred was five, there was a superflu, and he died. 

Morgana had always been intense, claiming she could see the future in her dreams. She hadn't foreseen Mordred's death, though, or her husband drifting away.

After that, it seemed to Arthur that the last thread of rope linking her to sanity had frayed and fallen away. Her hair grew long and unkempt, and she rarely slept or ate. Everything flowed out of her in an uncensored babble, all the time. Their father was a radio pundit who had a strong dislike for magic, religion, or superstition of any kind, and Morgana had kept her visions from him all her life.

Morgana moved in with Uther after her husband left. Arthur's own place was not far away. For her, he usually came to dinner on Sunday evenings. 

"I _saw_ him, Arthur. I saw Emrys in my dream again, but I still can't see his face. He has more power, more magic, than anyone who has ever lived or ever will live," she said. 

Her wits were still about her enough to speak in a low voice, but she was too far gone to look around for Uther, who was at his desk in the hallway, only a few feet away. There was no way he had not overheard her, and Arthur felt a cold dread in his belly.

Uther stormed into the room. His face was red and he pointed a shaking finger at Morgana. "You. Get out of my house. I always knew there was something wrong with you. I doubt you're even mine," he spat. "You're just the daughter of a whore, a witch, a magic-user."

Arthur moved in front of her, shielding her with his body. He didn't have the muscles he'd had a few years ago, but he was still far sturdier than she was. "Calm down, Father. It's not real. She's ill."

"And you. It's people like the two of you that brought all this on, Morgana with her sorcery and you with all those men. You say you can get it up for a woman, but how many times have you even tried? I have a pervert and a traitor in my house, and I want you both gone. The two of you are everything that's wrong with this world, every reason for—" He stopped, catching his breath, then continued in a low and dangerous tone. "Get out of here. Don't come back."

This was far from the first time Uther had thrown Arthur out, and Arthur was long past caring. But this time, Arthur knew he had to intervene, for Morgana's sake.

"She's confused, Father," Arthur said. "She's been like this since Mordred died. You know that."

"And that was a blessing, wasn't it? He would've been just like her. Get the fuck out of here, both of you. I can't stand to look at you for a moment longer," Uther hissed. He turned away.

Morgana gasped and surged forward, and now Arthur had to turn around and physically hold her back, his hands tightly gripping her upper arms. His sister and his father, almost in a fistfight—it was beyond reason, and Arthur wasn't going to let it happen.

"You're hurting me, Arthur," she said. She looked small and afraid, but still very angry. Arthur needed to get her away, at least for now. Somehow, he managed to push her out of the house.

"You can stay with me," Arthur said. "I'll take the couch."

So Uther believed that Morgana's mother was magical. It was just delusions, Arthur knew, but it made a lot of sense. Until Arthur's late teens, when he began having lots of sex, indiscriminate to gender, Uther had treated him like a golden boy. But Uther had never had any patience with Morgana. 

Uther had been grooming Arthur to follow him into fame, and Arthur wanted nothing to do with it. The world was ending, or—well, humans' time on the world was ending; Arthur suspected the Earth itself would continue for billions of years more. What was the point of anything, except to enjoy oneself if possible?

Uther had financed a good education for Arthur, and he had gotten a job right after uni as a minor government functionary in the immigration office, completely out of spite. Arthur was determined never to be important in any way. He knew his last name had probably helped him gain employment, but it didn't matter. 

By the time he was 25, Arthur had settled into a routine. He went to work and earned enough to eat and to rent his two-room flat. He always fell asleep and woke up to the radio. The news in the mornings and early evenings, and soft music at all other times—these had been the soundtrack of his private life for the last 11 years. He never voluntarily listened to Uther's show, although he often heard it in shops and other public places. Uther was very popular, even if his beliefs were incomprehensible to Arthur.

The truth was, Arthur had never believed in anything, beyond a vague affection for humanity in general, and even that had left him now. He hardly noticed other people. It had been years since he'd even felt attracted to anyone. He rarely masturbated; beyond occasional fantasies, usually romantic rather than sexual in nature, there was nothing.

His father's old friend, Gaius, believed in magic. He said he had studied and meditated enough when he was young to light a candle with words, but he'd lost the ability long ago. But Gaius also smoked a lot of weed and put out food for the brownies. Arthur privately thought Gaius' memories were hallucinations, and he'd always thought the same of Morgana's visions.

\------

Morgana did stay with Arthur for a few months, but she didn't get better.

One Saturday morning, Arthur was resting on the couch which was now his bed, listening to the ancient big band music that always came on after the news, but which he never got the chance to enjoy on weekday mornings. His eyes were closed, and he was lost in a fantasy of dancing cheek-to-cheek with someone in a dark ballroom. The person had no discernible characteristics beyond good dancing skills and a height similar to his own, but their body was very warm against his own. He imagined feeling their breath in his ear.

Since moving in, Morgana spent most of her time in his bedroom, and he only ever knocked on the door to ask her to eat something at dinnertime. She usually didn't respond or appear. He hadn't seen her in several days. 

She opened the door, stepped into the living room, and turned off the radio. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her hair was loose, her eyes were wild, and her cheeks were incredibly sunken. _I need to try harder to get her to eat,_ he thought.

"Arthur, I saw him today," she said. 

He sighed. "Who? I thought you'd been in there all morning. I didn't hear you go out," he said. He knew that she never left the flat.

"I saw Emrys. I saw his face! He finally showed me his face," she said, her voice reverent, as it always was when she spoke of Emrys. "He looks just like Mordred. The same hair and eyes and skin colour. And he has so much power, Arthur! But he needs me. He needs me to find him."

He ached for her, for himself, even for her absent husband, all mourning the little boy they'd lost so long ago. It was more obvious than ever that her visions were just fantasies. Emrys was no more real than Arthur's imaginary dance partner was. But he couldn't lash out at her. Mordred's death was too raw, still, for both of them.

"Oh," he said, at a loss. He wasn't going to feign excitement, and he knew she didn't want his pity. 

She didn't seem to notice his lack of a good response, and she returned to the bedroom.

A few days after that, he returned from work to find Morgana gone. She had left a note near his coffee pot, scribbled in near-illegible handwriting: "Have to find him. I can save him, and he will save all of us. Don't contact me. They'll trace you."

Who the fuck cared enough about either of them to trace them? It was paranoia. Uther often hinted at powerful connections, but Arthur had never really believed that, either. 

It was Uther's fault, in many ways, that the general populace had so much hate, and that they still believed in magic at all. On his radio show, every night, he ranted about magical people, about immigrants, the poor, the religious, queer people, but especially about the young, with the privileged lifestyles they led. Uther said that when people stopped coddling the weak, the human race would be free to start again, stronger than before. He had a convincing tone, full of authority.

Thanks to Uther and those like him, there were now laws against practising magic, and accusations of sorcery had become a common way for people to get rid of neighbours or co-workers who irritated them for one reason or another. But Arthur had never seen magic or anything close to it with his own eyes. He'd only seen Morgana's insanity.

Sometimes when people found out Arthur's last name, they asked him to get Uther's autograph, or to pass on their regards to him. Arthur just nodded and pasted a smile on his face. He had perfected that smile in the mirror so it didn't look like a grimace.


	2. Chapter 2

When Arthur saw Morgana several months later, it didn't happen in any way he had imagined. If he was honest, he hadn't expected to ever see her alive again.

He received a text from an unknown number that said, "Go to the treehouse. Tomorrow night. Cash."

He knew what it meant. The treehouse was near a lodge the family had once owned, in the woods up north. They'd played there as children. He checked his watch. 7:30 AM, and a long train ride ahead of him. He called in to work to feign a vague illness, got dressed, and left the house. 

His head felt heavy. He was weary to his bones, tired of so many things: the beggars on the street, with their lined faces and hungry hands; his own body, aching and failing, his hair a little thinner every day; and Morgana and Uther both, with their shared madness. There was no doubt in Arthur's mind they were father and daughter, even if it had been true that she wasn't Uther's biological child. They had the same darkness inside them.

But Arthur made his leaden feet take him to the train station, made his clumsy hands buy a single ticket from the empty-eyed woman behind the till. He thought Morgana's precaution of paying with cash instead of with something traceable was paranoia, again, but he had a few extra notes in his wallet and went along with it.

He knew he'd have to walk at the other end of the train journey, too, and he just wanted to rest. But there was no sleeping on trains, now, unless you were drunk or suicidal—being drunk in public could _be_ suicidal. Arthur couldn't fall asleep anywhere but his own bed, and that was usually difficult, too. On a train, people would see his shoes or his coat, notice they weren't falling apart, and stab him for them.

So he sat and stared out the window at the grey landscape of late fall and shivered, even beneath his dangerous wool coat.

His thoughts drifted to Gaius, as they often did. It usually worked to cheer him to think of Gaius, with his ridiculous caftans, his obnoxious taste in music, his drugs, and his pointless experiments. He had spent a lot of his childhood at Gaius' house in the woods, with Uther always off doing his self-important nonsense; as an adult, Arthur often visited Gaius by choice. He comforted himself with those memories of his not-quite-uncle, and he drifted, in a sort of trance, watching the bare trees flying past.

\------

Arthur prided himself on his sense of direction, and although he hadn't been anywhere near the lodge in many years, he thought he could find the treehouse before night fell. It was just beyond these raspberry bushes—yes, there it was. The treehouse was a ruin of plywood, but Morgana was standing under it, leaning against the tree.

She looked the same: her body was very thin, her face drawn. He had hoped for something else, although it hadn't been too long since he'd last seen her. If anything, she had lost weight.

He summoned a smile from somewhere deep within himself as he approached her. "I'm glad to see you," he said. They had never been physically affectionate with each other, and he didn't touch her now, either.

"Thank you for coming. I didn't know if you would, and it's important," Morgana said.

"Of course. What is it?" he asked, wary. He doubted he would see the significance of anything she had to say, but he would never abandon her.

"I'm living nearby with some other magical people," she began. Arthur struggled not to sigh. "One of our cell needs to escape the country. There's a group that fights for us. They're called the Network, and they have a ship. We need to get him to the ship. He has to be safe."

"I...see," he said. "Where do I fit in?"

She huffed. "You work in the immigration office, idiot. You can forge him some papers. You can save him. Please, Arthur," she said. 

He couldn't remember the last time she had directly asked him for something, but he didn't like this idea at all. The man was undoubtedly mentally ill, just like Morgana, and in no fit state to travel alone. And why could it possibly be important? But he couldn't refuse her outright. 

"Alright. Can I meet him, and these other people you mentioned?" he asked.

"Yes, but there's more, Arthur. It's him," she said, and her eyes gleamed with the madness. "It's Emrys. I know why, now. I don't know why I never saw it before."

He stared at the ground in front of him, gathering himself. He didn't know what to say. But his mind wasn't broken like hers, or like the other so-called magical people she had found. He should at least see how these people were living and bring them some food or supplies, if he could. 

"Let's go," he said, resigned. 

She looked at him for a long moment and then led him through the trees and up and down the rolling hills beyond. It was a difficult hike for Arthur; he was already tired from his train journey. The wind was cold on his cheeks, and he didn't have a scarf. _Windburn everywhere,_ he thought. He had a bit of stubble on his chin, having skipped part of his usual morning ritual, and he was hungry. 

"It's just a little bit further," she said, for at least the fifth time. She was wearing a long black dress which was at least 200 years out of date. It was long, nearly brushing the ground, and it had several overskirts made of stiff black brocade, a tight waist, and a corset laced in the front. The dress looked very heavy. She wasn't wearing a coat or shawl. Arthur didn't know how she'd done this walk twice in one day, considering the obvious weight of her clothing, as well as her lack of outerwear in the late-fall wind. 

"How many are living there?" Arthur asked.

"About five, right now, but some stay for a little while and move on," she said.

He didn't know what that meant at all.

"Do you have enough to eat?" 

"I don't know. I don't eat much. Sometimes there are apples. I think the others forage or something," she said, waving her hand vaguely.

Finally, they came upon a two-story cottage near a dirt road. It was rather well-kept up, Arthur was surprised to see, with a newly-thatched roof. Out front, there were a few trees, maybe apple trees, that looked like they'd been planted in the last ten years or so. There was an old beaten-up car sitting nearby, and Arthur wished someone had come to get them. But fuel had become very expensive.

A man opened the door. Arthur didn't know how anyone had heard them approach. "Cenred, this is my brother, Arthur," Morgana said.

Cenred nodded and motioned them in, bolting the door behind them. He didn't meet Arthur's eyes, and Arthur was far too interested in Morgana's living conditions to spare him more than a glance. 

Inside, it was clean and sparse, wood everywhere, with a small refrigerator and electric stove. There were working light bulbs in bare sockets. 

Where was the electricity coming from? A moment ago, Arthur had been ready to collapse as soon as they made it inside, but he began to panic at all the strangeness. Adrenaline surged through him, and he wanted to run all the way back to the train station.

"Where's Merlin?" Morgana asked Cenred.

"Upstairs, with my wife," he said. 

Morgana led the way, and Arthur had to push down his fears and follow her. Their feet were loud on the narrow wooden steps.

There were three closed doors upstairs, and Morgana opened the nearest one. "Here he is, Arthur," she said. Her voice was rapturous.

He looked into the room and saw a very young man sitting cross-legged on a small bed. Arthur noticed two things immediately. He really did resemble Mordred, very pale, with black hair and blue eyes. And he had a very prominent, very pregnant belly.

Arthur stumbled in shock and nearly fell. When he regained his balance, he turned to Morgana, his mouth agape.

"Do you see, now? Do you see?" she said. 

"I—" he said. "How?"

The man said, "Morgana, why didn't you tell him before you brought him in here? I hate when this happens, you know that. Who the fuck is he, anyway?"

"Merlin, this is my brother, Arthur. I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't have believed me. He had to see you for himself. And he's going to get you the papers and we're going to take you to the ship. Soon, it has to be soon," Morgana said.

"Right. I'm well aware of all that,” Merlin said, looking Arthur up and down. “But I don't know about him. You said he was your much younger brother. But he's very old, isn't he? And he looks a bit simple.”

"I am not simple," Arthur replied, automatically. He glanced around and noticed a blonde woman in a rocking chair. She inclined her head slightly when their eyes met.

"I'm Morgause. I don't really need to be here for this. I'll just head downstairs and let you all talk, shall I?" she said.

Merlin waited for her to turn and said, in a loud whisper, "She doesn't like the plan." Arthur heard Morgause make a disgusted noise in the back of her throat as she walked away.

Merlin motioned to the rocking chair dramatically, and Arthur sat, while Morgana closed the door and leaned against it. Her eyes were closed and her features were smoothed out; Arthur had never seen her look so at peace.

When Arthur had pulled himself together a bit, looking alternately between Merlin's huge belly and the floor, he knew what his first words should have been.

"Are you alright? Are you uncomfortable?" he asked Merlin.

"Does this look in any way comfortable?" Merlin replied. He did sound tired, but more annoyed than anything.

"So magic is real," Arthur said to himself.

"Of course, Arthur," Morgana murmured. 

Merlin said, "You must have noticed the electricity. Morgause does that."

Merlin's words barely registered. Guilt weighed on Arthur, threatening to choke away the few words he could find. “I never knew. I never believed you," he said to Morgana, quietly.

"I forgive you, Arthur. You're going to help us, now, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes. I'm sorry," he said, barely forcing the words past the shame. "I'm so sorry, Morgana."

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "You can sleep here tonight. Someone will drive you back near the train station tomorrow."

Fortunately, the next day was Saturday, so Arthur would not need to call in to work again.

Morgana opened the door and left, closing it quietly behind her, leaving Arthur alone with his remorse and with the first pregnant person he'd seen in the flesh since Morgana had given birth to Mordred, so many years ago.

Merlin didn't speak. Arthur had so many questions, but he didn't know where to start or if they'd be welcome. Eventually Merlin turned off the light, curled up on his side, and began to snore. 

Arthur was more than willing to help, but he wondered what the forged papers were meant to accomplish. Merlin was visibly pregnant. Surely he would be detained no matter what sort of documentation Arthur provided. But Arthur's fatigue caught up to him, then, and the rocking chair lulled him to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning at breakfast, Merlin explained to Arthur that he was from Ireland, originally, and that he had illegally entered Britain to find work. He had learned to hide his native accent well, because Arthur would never have guessed. 

"I don't have any current papers, and we know they'll check at the docks and send me to one of the refugee camps, or worse, if I can't produce the proper documents. Obviously, no one wants that. The idea is to pile me in clothes, make me look fat. At least it's almost winter, so I won't be too warm. But it has to happen in the next few days," Merlin said.

"Why?" Arthur asked.

"I'm nearly ready, I guess. One of the women who stays here, Gwen, was a midwife. She says it won't be much longer at all. And everyone thinks it would be much more difficult to smuggle me and a screaming infant than just me alone." He was matter-of-fact, and almost bitter.

Arthur nodded. He imagined himself in Merlin's position, and he discovered it wasn't difficult at all to understand the bitterness. 

Arthur didn't respond until he found the right words. "I don't think I would like it, a new life inside me, demanding my attention, and meanwhile everyone treating me like I was some sort of saviour. I won't treat you that way."

Merlin met his eyes, and Arthur saw something like shock. "Yes," he said, simply. "Thank you."

\------

On Monday, Arthur went back to work, committed to forging the documents. It wasn't difficult at all. He'd done it before, as side work, but never often enough to get caught. There were always a lot of people looking to get in or out of the country and willing to pay for it.

He went home early, feigning illness again to his boss, who told him to stay home until he felt better. It wasn't difficult to do; since the first superflu had hit, everyone took sickness seriously.

The next morning, he took the train again, paying the same dead-eyed woman, and he noticed her even-toned brown skin, bronze lipstick, and wavy brown hair, cut short and tinged with grey. It had been a long time since he'd taken note of those kinds of things in his everyday life. He tried to smile at her, but her expression didn't change.

 _Maybe Morgana's paranoia isn't part of her illness, either,_ he mused, as he handed over cash again. He knew that her mind wasn't whole anymore, that it would never be. Maybe it never had been. But he had decided he would follow her instructions, for better or worse. He didn't have anything to lose, and everyone had so much to gain.

On the train this time, his thoughts were very different. He wondered how Merlin was today. He had gone back to sleep directly after breakfast on Saturday. He said that the baby required a lot of rest. 

The walk to the cottage didn't seem quite as long, although Arthur was still tired out, unused to exercise. No one came to the door this time, and Arthur was surprised to find it unlocked when a person as important as Merlin was inside. It was nearly noon.

"Hello?" he called, but no one answered. He walked up the stairs, right to Merlin's room, and opened the door as quietly as he could.

Merlin was sleeping, again, facing the door, and Arthur noticed how young he really looked. He said he was 25, but Arthur would have guessed he was much younger, if that weren't impossible. 

He really wasn't girlish at all, aside from his very long eyelashes. His face was scruffy, and despite the pregnancy, or perhaps because of it, he was very thin, angular almost, with hollows in his cheeks, even though Arthur was sure the people here kept him well-fed. He didn't have breasts or wide hips, and Arthur didn't know if he had a vagina. How was this even going to happen? 

Arthur sat in the rocking chair, and it creaked loudly. Merlin blinked to wakefulness. He smiled at Arthur.

"Hello, old man," he said. He stretched out his arms above his head and then sat up. "I'll be back. Have to piss."

"Thanks for sharing that," Arthur said. Merlin chuckled and shuffled away, using the door frame to brace himself for a moment and catch his breath. 

Arthur didn't know where the others were. He supposed they were nearby somewhere. He didn't think they'd ever let him in on all their secrets. It didn't matter. He was a cog in a machine, in Morgana's machine, in fact; how had that happened? It was almost absurd, but he felt content with it. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so clearly.

Merlin came back to the room, his footsteps slow. He looked rumpled; his hair stuck up, and his ill-fitting white cotton nightdress was falling off one shoulder. He sat on the bed, with his legs straight out in front of him, leaning against the wall. 

"So who was the, er, the other parent?" Arthur asked, biting his lip. He knew he was prying, but he was very curious. Was the pregnancy the result of a tragic romance, or of the sort of encounters Arthur had enjoyed in his own youth?

Merlin's eyes grew very wide. "I've never had sex. I don't know how this happened," he said.

Arthur's jaw dropped. "What...this is...you're?" He was incoherent at the magnitude of it.

Merlin broke into peals of laughter. "Fuck, mate, your face! How did you believe that? No, I wanted to keep that one up for a while, but I can't. I'm not that cruel." He caught his breath, looked at Arthur, and his laughter began anew.

"You're an arsehole," Arthur said, with feeling, when Merlin's amusement seemed to have tapered off. 

"Oh, I _am_ sorry, Arthur. It was too tempting," Merlin said, still chuckling. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Who was it, really? Someone special to you?" 

"Fuck if I know, mate. Could be anyone. There've been lots of people. I had a girlfriend and a boyfriend back home, but they've been dead a long time now," Merlin said, shrugging. "But it's alright. No one stays together these days, really. We thought we loved each other, but we were just young." 

"You're still young, Merlin," Arthur said. He was glad that Merlin had known love, or something very close to it, but he didn't like the thought that Merlin seemed to have given up.

"So are you. I'm only messing about with that old man talk," Merlin said. He was looking at Arthur through his eyelashes, in something more than friendliness. 

A part of Arthur wanted to flirt back. But he knew that Merlin had a great destiny in which Arthur would play only a small part. Morgana had devoted her life to Emrys, and she had never mentioned seeing Arthur in her visions of him. 

"I'm sorry about the ones you loved," Arthur offered. 

"Just the way it is, mate," Merlin said, his voice rough. He wiped at his eyes and, alarmingly, he started to sob. "Fucking hormones make me so emotional. And it's so hard to even walk!"

Arthur's eyes grew wide. 

"This is awful, I have a cock, I have a nice cock, fuck the gods, fuck the universe, I never asked for anything like this!" Merlin's words were arrogant, equating his cock with his manhood. But he truly seemed hysterical, and Arthur knew he had to help somehow. Everything inside him told him to protect Merlin.

Still, it was very difficult to figure out how to help, at the moment. Arthur really didn't do well with crying people. 

"I like how you worked in the bit about how nice your cock is," Arthur said, and Merlin met his eyes with a glare. "I don't know about your cock, but that's quite a large ego, kid."

"Oh, and I suppose you don't care?" Merlin said, arching an eyebrow. "I know you like cock. Your sister told me. And I didn't say it was _big,_ I said it was _nice_. People enjoyed it. I enjoyed it, when I could still see it without looking in a mirror." Merlin was properly pouting now. 

"She's right, I do like cock, and everything else too, but someone's body has always been far less attractive to me than what sort of person they are," Arthur said. 

Merlin glared at him.

"Anyway, enough of that. I was just trying to make you stop crying," Arthur said. "And see, you're not laughing, but you're not crying anymore. I'd rather have you angry with me than crying."

Merlin looked away, but Arthur didn't miss his faint smile.

"Stop calling me 'kid,'" Merlin said. "I take it back, you _are_ old. You are _so_ old. I've only known you for a few days and I've heard your joints pop about a thousand times."

Arthur just shook his head, and they sat in companionable silence for a few moments, Merlin looking out the narrow window at the rolling hills. 

Suddenly, Merlin spoke. "Don't you want to touch me? Everyone who has met me since this happened has wanted to."

Arthur did, but he remembered his promise to treat Merlin like an ordinary person. It seemed Merlin hadn't gotten much of that, lately.

"It's alright, Arthur. I can see you want to," Merlin said.

Merlin had moved with difficulty to the edge of the bed, and his feet were hanging down. Arthur noticed how swollen they were and knew they must have pained him a lot.

"Come on, grandpa, we're leaving in an hour," Merlin said, motioning him closer. 

Arthur smiled and moved to sit next to him. 

"He kicks all the time now. It hurts," Merlin said. He took Arthur's hand. "Here, feel."

Arthur remembered, in the foggiest reaches of his mind, doing this same thing with Morgana, but without asking for permission. She hadn't liked it at all.

The baby's kicks felt fluttery and light against Arthur's palm. He was overcome with awe. The baby was alive. Another person, another human being, for the first time in so long—Arthur's mouth fell open and he met Merlin's eyes, noticing the little creases at the corners as Merlin smiled fondly at him. 

Arthur rested his hand there for a few more moments in his amazement before he shook his head and dropped his hand to the bed. "Thank you for this, Merlin," he said. "But is there anything I can do for you? Rub your feet? They look like they hurt."

"There's one thing, but it's nothing like that," Merlin said. He bit his lip playfully. "Let me kiss you. I haven't kissed anyone in months. It's been awful."

Arthur blinked at him. He hadn't allowed the thought of kissing Merlin to cross his mind. Despite his efforts, Arthur knew he was probably like most people, handling Merlin with too much care. He thought again about Morgana's visions and Merlin's importance, contrasted with Merlin's own needs and wants. Perhaps that was the burden of destiny; Merlin himself mattered far less than what he was. It wasn't fair. Merlin was a person, not a delicate vessel. Arthur could give him a moment of normalcy. 

Arthur's gaze rested on Merlin's full, lovely mouth, with its soft-looking lips. It would certainly be no hardship to kiss him. 

"Okay," he said, finally. He gave Merlin a chaste, closed-mouth kiss. 

"Come on, mate," Merlin said. "You know that isn't what I meant." And Merlin moved in, slowly, his tongue licking at Arthur's mouth, until Arthur had to kiss him back properly, sucking on his bottom lip. Arthur shivered when Merlin's stubble brushed against his nose, his chin. The kiss was gentle, their tongues exploring each other slowly. Merlin's hand caressed Arthur's cheek.

Arthur's hands balled into fists when he realized how much he wanted to pull Merlin closer. He moved away, instead. Merlin wasn't for him. Merlin made a disappointed little noise.

"That was nice," Arthur said. "But you said only an hour. You should get ready, yeah?"

"I suppose so," he said. He shrugged but didn't move to stand up.

There was something else Arthur wanted to ask for, too, and he hoped it wouldn't cost Merlin too much. He asked quickly, before he lost his nerve. 

"First, though, can I ask another favour of you? Can you show me something you can do with your magic?" he said. "It can be small. I don't know what it's like, if it tires you. Does it?"

"Yeah, a little. Everything does now. And how is this not amazing enough for you?" Merlin said, gesturing to his round belly.

"It is, it definitely is," Arthur said, patting Merlin there, enjoying the privilege. “That's alright, then. Sorry to have brought it up." He didn't want to exhaust Merlin any further. 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "No, I want to show you. Here, watch," he said.

"Obviously I'm going to watch,” Arthur said.

"Quiet, you," Merlin said, and then he cupped his hands together, speaking a word in a language Arthur had never heard before, a word he could not have repeated. Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and he pulled his hands apart, slowly. A bright blue butterfly flew out into the room. It danced around for a moment as Arthur watched in rapt attention, and then it disappeared into a mist.

Arthur gasped and couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "Merlin! Oh, Merlin, that was beautiful, amazing. And your eyes turned golden. Does that always happen?" he said.

“Yes, it's been inconvenient to hide that at times, let me tell you,” Merlin said. “Come on, help me up. I need to put on the pile of jumpers Morgana stashed in the wardrobe.”

\------

When they had the last jumper in place, and Merlin really was looking fat and a bit overwarm, they heard the front door open below. Arthur handed the comb on Merlin's nightstand to him after he helped him sit back down.

Merlin began to comb his hair, but he held his finger to his lips.

It was Morgana and Morgause; their voices were loud and angry, obviously in the middle of an argument. 

"We shouldn't have to live in fear just because we have magic, Morgana," said Morgause.

"But that isn't Emrys' destiny! It's far too dangerous, and it will never save us. They would study him, pull him apart, he and the child both," Morgana said. "I have seen him living in freedom. Our freedom will come, with time."

Morgause's voice was full of pain, then, but she was still shouting. The lights flickered in Merlin's room. "I do love you, Morgana. I do, but I don't believe you any longer. What the fuck is destiny, really? It's nonsense. Power is all that matters, and we have been powerless for far too long. I think these are your opinions, not your visions, and there's so much more we could do—"

"You think your affection means anything to me? I lost the need for that long ago," Morgana yelled, and it hurt Arthur to hear it. "Emrys has more power than all of us combined. And he believes me. He trusts me. You don't matter. Stay here and flick the lights on and off for the rest of your life. We both know that's all you can do."

Morgause ran up the stairs, and Arthur could hear her sobbing. She walked through Merlin's door, her face red and blotchy. "Merlin, I must speak with you—" she began, but she stopped when she noticed Arthur on the bed. She turned on her heel and walked away.

"What the fuck," Arthur whispered to Merlin when she was gone and Morgana had disappeared into her own room, as well. 

Merlin's voice was small. "They don't agree, like I told you. I don't even know what I want, not really, or what the best decision would be," he said, placing his hand on his stomach protectively. "I just want to keep him safe. He is a nuisance, but I can't help but love him. And my magic likes Morgana more than it likes Morgause."

"Your magic is a separate entity from you?" Arthur asked, instead of the question he really wanted to know the answer to.

"No, or not really. It's complicated. Sometimes, it's just a better sense of intuition than most people have. And I've learned to listen to it. It likes you, too, you know," Merlin said, jostling Arthur's shoulder and answering his question.

They heard the front door creaking open and feet on the stairs again, and a woman who was older than Morgana, perhaps 50, poked her head in the room. She had dark skin, a sweet smile, and pretty grey and black curls. "Oh, hello," she said. "You must be Arthur. Morgana's told us all about you. I'm Gwen."

She moved to the bed to shake Arthur's hand, and Arthur was surprised her grip was so strong for such a small-framed woman. 

"Gwen was a midwife. I mentioned her to you," Merlin said. "She and Cenred aren't magical like the rest of us."

“Yes, somehow, I got hooked up with you lot,” Gwen said. “How are your feet today? Good enough to walk onto the ship?"

"They're not too bad. Arthur offered to rub them. Wasn't that nice?" Merlin said, smirking.

"Oh, a gentleman. I don't know that I've met a gentleman in quite some time," she said, with a wink at Arthur.

"Oi!" said Merlin. "I'm a gentleman."

"You're anything but," she said.

Merlin stuck his tongue out at her. She laughed.

"So Arthur, it will just be Merlin, me, and Morgana in the car today. She wanted me to ask you if you would come with us," Gwen said.

"I expected to come along," Arthur said. "I can help Merlin in and out of the car. You're strong, but I think I'm probably a little stronger than either of you." He flexed his biceps at her.

She raised her eyebrows. "How did I mistake you for a gentleman? You're another cheeky little arsehole. You make a matched pair. Oh, what a nice day it will be today, in the car with the two of you." She left, presumably to check on Morgana. 

Arthur appreciated her efforts at keeping things light this morning, especially after Morgana and Morgause's row, which Gwen was probably aware of. But he didn't want to say goodbye to Merlin. Arthur couldn't place a claim on him, but he knew he'd never forget him. Arthur took his hand and squeezed it.

"I won't see you, after today. Where is the ship taking you?" Arthur asked.

"No one really knows. It's like terrorist cells, Cenred says. Everyone only has a bit of information, so even if someone is captured and tortured, the whole Network won't fall apart. There are a lot of these safehouses around, hiding magic-users. I have a ward on the whole place that alerts me if anyone new even notices it. Most of the safehouses do, I've heard. This isn't the first one I've stayed at."

"All that magic must be exhausting," Arthur said, stroking his thumb along Merlin's palm.

"Not normally, but I do get very tired now, because of this needy little fellow."

"So it's definitely a boy? Does your magic know?" Arthur asked.

"No, I have no idea," Merlin said. "I'll find out soon enough, I suppose."


	4. Chapter 4

They piled into the car. It was a small thing, electric, Arthur realised, now that he was more awake. Merlin's eyes had lit gold again when Arthur helped him to the car, and the engine had started. So he had Morgause's power, too. Did he also have visions, like Morgana? Arthur wanted to ask him, but when Arthur helped him with his seat belt, Merlin looked up with sleepy, grateful eyes and dozed off.

Arthur found himself driving the car, Gwen telling him they needed a big strong man to do it, with a glare. Morgana gave her a rare smile. 

He wondered if it was really true, what she'd yelled at Morgause, that she had no need for love or friendship. She and Gwen seemed very comfortable with each other. He hoped Morgana still had it in her to care for someone, the way these people clearly cared for her.

"Where is the dock, then?" Arthur said. 

"You know it. It's near Gaius' place," Morgana answered. She was sitting in the passenger seat, while Gwen sat behind her and Merlin behind Arthur. Morgause was looking at them through an upstairs window. Arthur hadn't seen Cenred today.

"Oh. So I turn left from here?" he asked. She nodded, and Arthur pulled out, toward the treehouse and the lodge. The rolling hills turned into forest as they moved away from the cottage.

"It's important that he gets on the ship, Arthur," Morgana said, suddenly. 

"I know that, Morgana," he said. He kept his eyes on the road, which was narrow and winding, but he wanted to give her a reassuring look, at least. He waited until the road straightened out for a few kilometres and turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

He followed her gaze and saw something moving, something larger than most of the animals he knew lived in these woods. Maybe a deer. 

Then a gun fired, and Morgana slumped forward.

Arthur cried, "Merlin, wake up! Gwen, protect him, you have to protect him. Get down, get down!" He pressed his foot to the accelerator and heard another shot ring out.

The bullet bounced off the passenger side of the car, with an anticlimactic, non-metallic sound. 

"I put up a shield, just drive, Arthur, just get us out of here," Merlin yelled.

"Is she okay?" Gwen shouted. "Oh my God, is she dead? She's dead, isn't she?"

Arthur couldn't check. He drove as fast as he could and hoped the magical shield would hold. 

He could see in the rear-view mirror that Merlin had not managed to get out of his safety belt, nor crawl to the floor. Merlin was too big for that space, anyway. Gwen leaned forward to reach for Morgana's wrist in the small car. 

There hadn't been another shot after the second one. Surely Morgana would survive. It was only one shot that hit her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gwen's fingers on Morgana's wrist, and they all waited in silence. Arthur's breaths were loud in his own ears. 

"She's dead," Gwen said.

\------

There was nothing for it but to hide at Gaius' place, to hope the baby could wait until whoever had shot at them had lost their trail.

Arthur drove the car off the road into a small clearing, and together Gwen and Arthur helped Merlin out of the car and pushed it until tall trees hid it from the road somewhat. Merlin moved along behind them, very slowly. It was still a long walk to Gaius' house. Arthur hoped that between them, he and Gwen could get Merlin there.

Merlin leaned against the car's hatchback, catching his breath. Arthur and Gwen moved to the passenger side door and looked at Morgana. He reached in to lift up her head. Her eyes were glassy and unseeing, and Arthur closed them for her. 

"I don't want to leave you here, but you told me to get him to the ship. I'm so sorry. I wish," he said, his voice breaking, "I wish I had believed you sooner. Goodbye, Morgana."

"You saved me, but I couldn't save you. Goodbye," Gwen whispered, kissing her own fingertips and touching them to Morgana's cheek. Tears ran down Gwen's face. 

They looked at each other, Arthur and Gwen. It would be a difficult walk. Arthur could see the deep sadness in Gwen's eyes, but he could also see steely determination. 

"Merlin, do you want to say goodbye?" Arthur called. He moved to stand near Merlin, ready to help him walk to the side of the car.

"I already did. Last night. She knew this would be her last day," Merlin said quietly. "I don't know what she foresaw, exactly, or I would have shielded the car before he shot. I didn't know who would want to hurt her. I hoped she was wrong. I almost managed to convince myself. But now I know it was Cenred—I know him, and my magic could feel his presence. And I know why. He wasn't aiming for me, just for the three of you. Definitely for Morgana."

Arthur's sadness quickly shifted into anger. "If you knew, why couldn't you protect her? What the fuck is Morgause's plan, anyway? Morgana didn't have to die!" he shouted.

Merlin flinched and Arthur looked down, breathing hard and pounding clenched fists into his own thighs. Gwen stood with a hand covering her open mouth, looking between them.

"They want me to stay here and become a symbol for their version of the Network, for people to rally behind me and the baby, so that people like your father can see how important we are," Merlin said. "I can't. I can't be that person. My role is different; I've known that for a long time."

"Your role? What the fuck does that mean? Your destiny, I suppose?" Arthur yelled. 

"Yes, our fucking destiny! Hers and mine both. She was so sure she would die today, and I pleaded with her not to come, Arthur. You have to know that I did. She said she had to. I don't know why," Merlin said. His voice was shaking now, and he began to cry, too, with heavy, angry sobs. 

Arthur's fingers unclenched and he moved closer to Merlin, who shrunk back, as though Arthur was going to harm him. It shamed Arthur. He never wanted to frighten Merlin. 

"No, Merlin, I'm sorry. I'm very sorry," he said. "I know how much you meant to her. Everything was for you, for as long as I can remember. I think, to her, you were magic itself. She told me that, once."

Merlin nodded to himself, and Arthur tentatively reached out and pulled him into a hug. Merlin gripped him tightly, and Arthur stroked his back.

"We have to go," Gwen said, firmly. "I know this is important, but we have to go now."

She was right, Arthur knew. Three emotional people in the woods; they were easy prey.

Merlin pulled away and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "I did have an idea. Is it very far to this place, Arthur? If it's less than an hour's walk, I could make myself lighter and walk under my own power for a while. But I'd need to sleep for a long time, afterwards."

"Yeah, it's only about half an hour from here," Arthur said, and Merlin's eyes flashed gold. 

\------

Arthur led the way, surprised to see how easily Merlin could move under the spell. 

Night was falling, but before long, the sprawling house came into view. It was almost hidden among the enormous trees, and there was no road to it, just a walking path. 

There were candles burning inside, and Arthur knocked on the door. He saw Gaius peering back at him, standing on his tiptoes to see through the small pane of glass at the top of the door. 

"Arthur," Gaius said, his smile wide as he opened the door. "And who are your friends? Oh, it doesn't matter. Come inside, all of you."

Arthur waved towards Merlin and Gwen, nodding Merlin to the kitchen table, and told Gaius their names. As Merlin walked past Gaius, it was obvious from the loud gasp that Gaius had taken in Merlin's pregnancy, despite the jumpers. Arthur didn't know how they had ever thought they'd fool anyone. 

"Oh, that's nice. That's very nice to see," Gaius said, and Arthur envied the grace of his reaction. "You're safe here, my boy, don't worry. You're all safe."

Gaius served them some oatmeal with honey that he'd probably harvested himself, his old limbs carrying him, a ladder, and beekeeping gear deep into the forest to rob a beehive. The image made Arthur's heart swell with fondness. 

But when Merlin ate, he was barely able to lift the spoon to his mouth, and he was extremely pale and uncommunicative. It worried Arthur.

After the meal, Merlin let Gwen lead him to Gaius' big bed with its multicoloured patchwork quilts, and they fell asleep, Merlin still in all of his jumpers. Gwen curled up behind him, and Arthur could see that he clasped her small hands to his chest, between his own. The day had completely drained Merlin of energy and magic.

Gaius motioned Arthur to join him on the living room couch. "Come talk to me, now that your boy is resting. I have a good alarm system, you know, but no one comes out here," he said.

Arthur sat next to him. "Morgana is dead. Someone betrayed all of us. I don't know how long we should stay," he said.

"She is? Oh, Arthur. I'm sorry. Her life was hard, wasn't it? I don't think she ever felt safe or loved," Gaius said. "I tried, but it was all about Emrys, and I believed her, I did. But it just consumed her."

"Merlin is Emrys," Arthur admitted.

Gaius nodded, a soft "oh" escaping his lips. Arthur imagined a lot of things were falling into place in Gaius' mind, just as they had for him.

Arthur never really felt safe anywhere himself, hadn't in years, but this was a better place than most. He'd grown up intermittently under the feet of Gaius and his late wife, Alice, who had died in the same superflu epidemic that took Mordred.

Gaius was the only one Arthur had told about his first crush on a boy, or his first fling with anyone. They lost touch for a few years while Arthur was busily fucking everyone he met, and when he grew tired of that, he'd hinted to Gaius about how wild things had been and watched the old man's eyes dance with amusement.

"Hang on," Arthur said, catching up. "He's not _my_ boy. He's his own boy. No, he's not even a boy. He's 25, for fuck's sake."

"That old? I wouldn't have thought that. But you're all three of you boys and girls to me," Gaius said, raising his eyebrows so far they disappeared into his white hair. Arthur actually had no idea how old Gaius was. He'd always been an old man, as far as Arthur knew.

Gaius got up and left the room, shaking his head. Of course, within moments, some strange music was playing softly, and Gaius was carrying his pipe. Arthur chuckled.

Gaius grew his own weed with some setup of heat lamps and chemistry that he'd never taken the time to explain to Arthur while they were sober.

"You old fool," Arthur said. "This _really_ isn't the time." 

Gaius' eyes twinkled. "Life is short, Arthur," he said. 

And the weight of that statement pressed on Arthur, and some of the lightness he always felt in Gaius' home left him. Morgana was gone. Had it been worth it? Was Merlin really the key to everything? Even if they could get him on the ship, was his baby going to be the last child born on Earth? Merlin seemed very weak right now; would he even survive the night? 

As usual, Gaius drew him out of his dark thoughts, as Arthur watched him take a giant hit of the pipe. He passed it to Arthur. Gaius sat back and closed his eyes, folding his hands across his middle. "Ah, you really must try this, Arthur, it's lovely. Flavour of strawberries, I don't know if I'll be able to replicate it again."

Gaius had no tolerance at all for weed, but Arthur never felt much beyond a very mild relaxation. He took a small puff, barely inhaling, just to humour Gaius. "It does have a nice taste. What on earth do you get up to in this house? Gene-splicing?"

Gaius giggled like a girl, and Arthur's spirits lifted a little. Genuine laughter like that was rare and valuable. 

"Can't explain to you now," Gaius said. "You always ask when I'm fucked up. And hey! You're a young fool!" He pointed at Arthur and reached for the pipe again.

Arthur smiled fondly. 

"More?" Gaius said. 

"No, thank you, I..." Arthur trailed off. He didn't want to risk impairment tonight, regardless of Gaius' assurances of safety.

Gaius patted his hand. "I understand, my boy."

"What is this music? It sounds like trainfuls of feral cats colliding," Arthur said. He knew Gaius loved to talk about his music collection.

"Oh, Aphex Twin, very edgy, when I was a lad. Really pushed the boundaries, you know?" Gaius replied.

Arthur had no idea why anyone would want to push the boundaries of anything, but he nodded.

"He's a beautiful young man, isn't he? I never fancied boys, never fancied anyone but my Alice, and even I can see that. I see how you look at him, too," Gaius said.

"Yes, very beautiful," Arthur murmured. There was a roaring fire, and Arthur was warm for the first time today. His eyes drifted closed.

It seemed like only moments later when he was awakened by a noise he'd never heard before, but instantly recognised as Gaius' security alarm. It blared so loudly that it hurt Arthur's ears.

Gaius stirred beside him and blinked in fear. Arthur saw his lips form the words, "But how? Why?"

Arthur shook his head, sprang up, and kissed Gaius' cheek. There was no time for sentiment; why had he done that? He ran to the bedroom.

Merlin and Gwen were awake, their hair in disarray. But Merlin was still in the bed, and Arthur could see Gwen was struggling to get him up.

Arthur scooped up Merlin bridal-style and ran with him out the back door. Arthur's lower back protested; he ignored it. Gwen followed, and he heard her sobbing as she ran, but he couldn't do anything about it. 

They didn't stop running until they reached a thick stand of trees, and they slipped into the shadows, Arthur setting Merlin down on his feet as gently as he could. Merlin's legs folded up under him, and Arthur bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing hard. Gwen moved to Merlin and felt his pulse and his forehead.

The alarm was still loud, but Arthur heard the gunfire. 

"Oh my God, Gaius," Arthur cried, a stab of pain running through his chest. "We have to go, I know these woods, we have to go. Oh my God, Gaius. Can you walk, Merlin? Can he walk? Help me, Gwen, let's get him up. Merlin, can you do something, please, anything."

Merlin closed his eyes and Arthur saw the faint gold gleam behind his eyelids. "They won't be able to track us for a few hours. It's just a simple camouflage spell, but it's all I can do right now," Merlin said, in a rush. Arthur saw that his eyes were hollow with fear and fatigue. "But I can walk, I think."

Gwen and Arthur both braced their hands under Merlin's arms and lifted him up. They balanced him awkwardly between them, Merlin's feet taking only a little of his own weight. Arthur's muscles ached. He headed towards the little stream he had walked along so often as a boy. He knew it led to a town. Maybe they could steal a car.

When they'd walked for about an hour, Merlin said, breathlessly, "I don't like being carried like a sack, you oaf. I'm not a sack. Don't manhandle me."

Arthur grinned at him. "You don't like being manhandled? But I think a lot of men have handled you, mate."

"No more than you, I'd wager. I'm just unlucky," Merlin said.

The banter had cost an Merlin effort that Arthur knew he couldn't spare, so he didn't reply. Gwen looked serious, concentrating on the effort of carrying Merlin, and Arthur thought she probably hadn't even heard their exchange. 

But he didn't think Merlin was unlucky, not really. Merlin did give him a lot of hope, even if Arthur had promised not to mention it. The hope had grown despite the despair and emptiness that were Arthur's everyday companions. And even now, the hope was still there, like a tiny plant poking its tendrils out through all the terror that had started with Morgana's death. 

_Morgana knew of him when we were so young,_ Arthur thought, _before he was ever born._ He'd had no idea how powerful Morgana's magic had been, and he still didn't know how difficult it must have been to truly see the future, when the future was so bleak. Her haunted eyes, her unkempt hair, her lack of tenderness towards him—he knew the reasons for those things, now. 

He'd asked her once, when he was a child and she was a gloomy teen, "Who is Emrys, then? Do you even know?”

"Emrys is my destiny, and he is my doom," she had replied, like an incantation. 

"Oh, come off it, that's too much, even for you," he'd said. He had actually laughed at her, and though he saw the pain in her eyes, he didn't understand how she could be so convinced of foolish things.

But she'd had it exactly right. He felt again the sharp pain of her loss. There was so much he would like to say to her, but he wanted to start by enfolding her in the circle of his arms.

And Gaius. Gaius had probably stood there and made silly faces at the armed intruders to confuse them, to buy Merlin a few precious seconds, laughing when they shot at him. _Maybe Gaius and Morgana are together somewhere now,_ Arthur thought. But he didn't believe it. He was just glad she was finally at peace.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't much longer before Merlin shouted. 

"What is it? Did you step on a rock? I can trade you shoes," Arthur said.

"No—set me down here."

They lowered him down, and Arthur removed one of his own wool gloves and offered it to Merlin. "You can't cry out. Bite down on this," he said. Merlin shook his head.

Gwen looked at Merlin. "What happens now, Merlin?" she asked.

"You don't fucking know?" Arthur said. "How do you not know? You're a midwife!"

"Magical pregnancy, idiot," she said.

Merlin was panting, and it took him a long time to speak. When he did, it was just words with long pauses between them during which he seemed to be trying not to shout again. "No. Not labour pains. It's my magic. Done. Has to rest, but it can't. Keeping the baby alive."

"How much more time before the camouflage spell wears off? Two hours? Less?" Arthur asked.

"Two. I need," he said, and fell asleep. Gwen reached for his pulse again. Her eyes locked with Arthur's, and she nodded and looked back down at Merlin, brushing his hair away from his forehead. They sat down on either side of Merlin. Arthur was relieved to relax, after the long time they'd spent walking.

Arthur had noticed the warmth in her eyes and touches, and he wondered about the nature of her relationship with Merlin.

"Are you and he—" Arthur began, then stopped, feeling very frivolous for asking in these circumstances.

"Oh no, nothing like that," she said. She interlaced her fingers with Merlin's and looked away. "It's hard to explain."

"You can, if you like. We have to guard him, anyway. Maybe we can wake him, to protect us, if we hear something before they reach us. It would pass the time to talk," Arthur said.

Gwen gave him a sweet smile. "That's true. Well," she said. She huffed out a breath. "I can't help but care for Merlin. I was a midwife for a long time. It suited me. I never wanted my own children, but I loved bringing them into the world. Rubbing them down, cleaning their little noses. People don't know about those things, now."

Arthur nodded.

"And then it just stopped. It was abrupt. It wasn't a trickle, like people think. It was...one day, we had fifteen babies born, and the next day, zero. We'd never had a single day with zero, before. It was in the city centre; it was unheard of. No one knew what it meant."

"I remember a little, from the news, and my father," he said.

"Your father is a rat bastard and I don't mind telling you. You know, my mother came here to work, like Merlin did," Gwen said. Her voice was harsh. "I remember when Uther started on the radio, after the crisis began. It was just hate and I thought no one would listen."

"They did," Arthur said. "He took away our hope. Just chipped away at it, bit by bit, with blame and suspicion, until there was nothing left."

"Yes," she said. "That's it. That's it exactly." Her eyes were filling with angry tears. 

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I'm sorry for what he did," he said. "I never knew how to stop him."

"It's not your fault," she said, shaking her head. "You were just a kid. But I couldn't find work, after that. People blamed everyone who worked in medicine, especially those like me who'd worked with mothers and infants. It only got worse after the superflu. No one trusted us. So I just stayed at home. My husband, Lance, was a paramedic, and I was always afraid for him."

Arthur dreaded to hear the rest. He reached out and squeezed her free hand. 

"This past spring, he was called to a food riot, and they killed him. He was a good man," she said. She squeezed his hand back and wiped at her tears.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," he said. He didn't know what to say. After a few moments, he asked gently, "How did you come to live in the cottage?"

"I ran away. I bought a ticket with the last of my money to get as far away as I could. I couldn't live where he had died. I didn't know where I was going. It didn't matter. I met Morgause in the town near here, and she took me in. It was just this summer. I was sleeping in the shade of a building, during the day, with no idea how I'd last the winter. I don't know how I stayed safe. Perhaps I looked too shabby to bother with. I learned later that Morgana had sent Morgause to look for me. Morgana had seen me in her visions, she said." 

"She never mentioned you," Arthur said.

"I know. It was a recent thing, probably started when I ran away, after she was already at the cottage," Gwen said. "Merlin was already there. And when I saw him, well. I had to help. I was trained to help, even if I don't know what happens with a man. Morgana and Morgause, they needed looking after, too."

"But—"

"No, Arthur, Morgause isn't a bad person. She just believes this is the only way for magical people to be accepted. But she loved Morgana. We all did. We shared each other's beds, sometimes, all of us did. Not like that," Gwen said, holding up her hand when she saw Arthur had drawn back in surprise. "Just like last night. Like that."

"Oh," Arthur said. He imagined cuddling with another person with no sexual intent, solely for comfort and warmth. He'd never done it before, and the idea seemed foreign, but not unpleasant. "Morgana and I were never close in that way, or in any way, really. I wish we had been. I wish I could've been there with her, with all of you."

"With Merlin, you mean?" she said.

Arthur shrugged and nodded.

"You have feelings for him, don't you?" she asked. "Something more than protectiveness and friendship."

"Yes, I think I do. I don't know if it matters, though. I don't think any of us will survive the night," Arthur said.

"He has to, Arthur. It was the only thing Morgana lived for, and I believed in her," she said, fiercely. 

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and brought out a large leather wallet. "Now, I have to ask you something important. I know how to do a Caesarean. Should I do that? Or will his magic somehow bring the baby out? He and I have talked about it before, but he was never sure what would happen."

"What are you asking me for? You are a midwife," he reminded her again.

"But I don't know anything about magic," she snapped.

"Neither do I! You've been around magic more than I have, at least this kind of magic. I don't think Morgana had magic outside of her visions."

He thought it over and could see that Gwen was contemplating it, too. Merlin's magic seemed to act without his direct command, sometimes, especially when it needed to protect him and the baby. Arthur had noticed that Merlin didn't always need to use words to cast a spell. But Arthur didn't know how Merlin's magic would react to surgery. He thought about it for a long time as they sat in silence, their breathing and the wind the only sounds, but he came to no conclusions.

"Should we wake him?" Arthur said. "It's been two hours. I'm afraid they're going to find us."

"I don't think so, no. We're well-hidden where we are, and the sun won't be up for hours yet."

Before long, though, Merlin's hand brushed Arthur's leg. 

"He's ready. Or she. I think it is a girl, Arthur. The pain is gone," Merlin said, speaking far more easily than he had before, though his breathing was still shaky. "If Gwen does her thing with her tools, my magic will knit me back up. I think." 

"I can stitch you up. We won't let you die, Merlin," she said. "Arthur, can you turn on your mobile and shine it here, so that I can see what I'm doing?" She pointed to Merlin's stomach, and she rolled up his many jumpers to bare his skin.

Merlin said, "I won't let you two die, either. I'm sure Morgause is looking for us. If she finds us, she'll kill you both. You have to do it now, so we can run. Give me that glove, Arthur."

Merlin took it and bit down on it. Arthur saw Gwen put on latex gloves and get out her tools, sterilizing them with alcohol wipes. He got out his mobile and aimed it where she had asked. She palmed Merlin's abdomen, looking for the right place to cut, Arthur imagined. But Arthur couldn't watch; he closed his eyes. His heart was racing.

Then, he heard Merlin make an awful noise around the glove, and he looked instinctively at Merlin's face. His eyes were clenched tight in pain. Arthur reached deep inside himself, for those tendrils of hope, and he imagined that he felt them wrapping around his heart. It slowed down to a normal rhythm. He wasn't panicking anymore. He had to be strong, for Merlin. 

"You can look at me," Arthur whispered. "I'll keep you calm."

Merlin's eyes snapped open, looked around wildly, and found Arthur's. They were full of pain and fear, and his muffled noises continued. Arthur stayed focused, smiling and stroking Merlin's arm and making "shh" sounds, as Gwen worked in silence. It felt like it lasted for a long time.

The baby cried, short and sharp, and Merlin's eyes closed again. Arthur thought he saw the faint gold glimmer again, but he wasn't sure.

Arthur held his breath as he watched Gwen quickly wipe the baby down, still focused on her task. She cut the cord and handed the baby to Arthur. Her gloves were red with blood. "It's a girl," she said. "No, no, support her head, idiot."

Arthur looked at the baby only long enough to do as Gwen had asked, tucking her into the crook of his elbow and holding her head with his hand. "Gwen, stitch him up. He's not okay, is he?"

She motioned for Arthur to move the light, and she peered at Merlin's face. "No, he's alright. He's just asleep again. Move the light back so I can stitch, now."

Arthur continued watching Merlin's face, but his eyes were still closed.

"Arthur, Arthur, look," she whispered, in amazement. "You can look now, please look."

He steeled himself to see blood again, but when he looked, Merlin's entire lower torso was bathed in blue light, the same colour as the butterfly had been. 

Arthur smiled, relief flooding through him, and he finally looked at the baby. She looked very small for a person who'd brought so much trouble and so much hope. “Hello,” he whispered, taking her in both hands, very gently. 

"Arthur, can I?" Gwen said.

"Yes, of course, Gwen. Of course," he said, and gave her the baby. 

Gwen looked down at the baby, her face a picture of awe. "She's real, Arthur. I think a part of me didn't believe it until now. Look at her breathing in and out."

"She is amazing, isn't she?" Arthur said.

Merlin stirred, then. 

"Give her to me," Merlin said. 

Merlin took her and kissed her forehead, and set her down on his chest. Arthur and Gwen smiled at each other, and they watched Merlin and the baby, as they continued to breathe.

\------

A branch cracked; leaves rustled. There was someone coming for them, through the woods.

"It's Morgause. Take the baby so I can stand up," Merlin said.

Gwen took her, and Arthur watched as Merlin scrambled to his feet in the way that any able-bodied young person could.

"Oh, thank God, you can run," Gwen said, handing the baby back to Merlin. He clutched her tightly to his chest with one arm. 

"Follow me," Arthur said, and they ran in a line, Arthur, Merlin, and then Gwen.

There was a gunshot, and Gwen cried out. Arthur didn't stop, but Merlin caught up and knocked him down.

"No, Morgause, I won't go with you!" Merlin yelled. 

Arthur turned and saw Merlin moving around Gwen's fallen form, putting himself and the baby both between Morgause and Gwen. "Gwen? Gwen, no!" Merlin cried. 

"It only grazed my leg, Merlin, I'll be fine," Gwen said. 

Arthur looked up and saw Morgause standing a few metres away. She was wearing military-style fatigues and her gun was pointed at Merlin. 

Merlin spoke an incantation, long words that seemed to have a life of their own, and a half sphere of blue light surrounded Gwen, Merlin, and Arthur. Merlin turned to face Morgause, still holding the baby close.

"You can't have us, not any of us. Just leave this place, Morgause," Merlin said, and he sounded like a thousand voices speaking all at once. The hairs on Arthur's arms stood up. The baby wasn't making a sound.

Inside the bubble, Arthur moved to Gwen. "Are you really alright?" 

She nodded, although he could tell by the grim set of her lips that she was in pain. She had her hand pressed tightly to the back of her calf. "It's really very minor. I'll live."

"And how long are you going to be able to stay in there, Merlin?" Morgause taunted. "I'll wait for you. I'll kill you all. I only need the baby. It's not right for you to have it. You'll never make it, on your own. We need the baby. We need to be free."

"How is it more right to let her live her whole life as some sort of symbol of what you believe? She'd be killed within a month. There is despair here, deep inside everyone. I won't let her see that. She deserves more than that. We all do, even you. This is your last warning. Walk away," Merlin said, still in that otherworldly voice.

"No," she said. "No, I won't. The baby belongs with me." 

Merlin flung his free arm out, almost casually, and though he spoke no words, Morgause flew backwards through the air. Arthur heard a sharp crack as she collided with a tree. Whether she was dead or just unconscious, Arthur didn't know or care. 

They were all very still, listening for Cenred or anyone else. After a few minutes, Merlin gave the baby to Arthur and removed his outermost jumper, which he twisted into a sling and wrapped over one shoulder. Arthur and Merlin fiddled with the baby and the sling until her tiny face only just peeked out. No one would see her. If a little bit of good fortune smiled on them, she wouldn't cry again until they got on the boat. 

The blue barrier disappeared into a mist, and Merlin's eyes flashed gold once again. "Silence spell. No one can hear us, but we can still hear each other. Don't talk where people can see us. They'll turn us in, just for that."

Arthur and Gwen nodded.

"Now, let's go," Merlin said, moving forward along the stream again. Arthur helped Gwen up, and they followed.

There was an electric car parked on the outskirts of the small village Arthur remembered. Merlin's eyes shone gold, and it unlocked and started itself.

"It's only 20 minutes to the docks," Arthur said. He helped Gwen into the passenger seat, and Merlin climbed into the back.

Gwen and Arthur were silent as Arthur followed the road, but the baby began to cry. Merlin made gentle cooing noises, but her cries only grew louder.

"I hope they have some way to feed her on the ship, because I don't," Merlin said.

The streets near the dock were deserted. There certainly didn't seem to be anyone checking papers. When Arthur stopped the car near the docks, they all got out. 

Arthur moved to help Gwen walk, but she turned to him, shaking her head. 

"No, I'm afraid this is goodbye. I'm too old for this part of the journey. I found a place before, and I'll find a place again," she said, raising her chin stubbornly. 

"You already have, Gwen," Merlin said. "Come on. We'll start our new life together." 

She looked between Merlin and Arthur, and her eyes landed on the baby. "Yes. Okay," she said. Arthur helped her walk down the dock until Merlin spotted a rowboat tied to a post. Between them, Merlin and Arthur managed to get Gwen, the baby, and themselves into the boat. Then, Merlin used his magic to take the rowboat to the ship.


	6. Chapter 6

**5 years later**

Gwen was napping inside as Merlin and Arthur sat together on the stoop of their cabin, watching little Morgan play in the yard. There were a lot of people Merlin could have honoured with her name, but only one real choice. Arthur knew it wasn't his decision, but he requested it be just different enough, as he couldn't bear to think of Morgan's life taking anything close to the same shape as Morgana's. 

Morgan looked just like Merlin, and reminded Arthur a lot of Mordred at her age. They played airplane, now, too. But Morgan had never seen one, so Arthur had to teach her to provide the sound effects. 

"Oh, thanks for that, Arthur. That's a _wonderful_ noise," Merlin said. "I'm going fishing. I may come back, or I may find some other family."

Arthur just smiled. The island was large, but no one else lived on it. Merlin was just a 30-year-old brat. Well, tomorrow, he would be.

They had a little contact with the outside world through the Network, and they knew a few more children had been born since Morgan, although only to women. Hope was returning, but it was a very slow process, far slower than it had been for Arthur personally. 

They had not had any other children themselves. Why a man had carried a baby, no one had an answer for. It really did puzzle Gwen, especially.

Arthur never told Merlin or Gwen, but he did believe in the virgin birth idea, sort of. Not that Merlin was a virgin when he became pregnant, but that his own magic had created Morgan. Arthur kept this flight of fancy to himself because it was too close to the symbolic stuff that had caused so much suffering and loss in their lives. It didn't matter, anyway; as the years went by, it rarely crossed his mind.

As Arthur enjoyed the warm sun on his face, he smiled at Merlin, who was playing with a long stalk of grass. Because Merlin worked the most to provide them all with food and other necessities on the island, he had built a lot of muscle; in the golden light, Arthur thought he looked strong, young, and very handsome. 

Merlin turned to him, and his expression was serious. "I lied to you about something, a long time ago, Arthur, and I want to tell you the truth today, okay?" he said. 

Arthur wasn't afraid. He always had trusted Merlin, even from the beginning. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's not my birthday tomorrow," Merlin said. 

"But tomorrow is the third of May," Arthur said. "I don't understand."

"Yes, that was just for the forgery, to obscure the facts a little more. It was Morgana's idea," Merlin said.

"This is the big secret you needed to tell me? Why on earth would such a thing matter? Are you trying to kick me out of your bed because our zodiac signs aren't compatible, or something? We both know that will never happen. You'd miss me too much," Arthur said.

Merlin swatted at him. "Oh, shut up. I won't tell you if you don't shut up."

Arthur waved his hand instead of speaking, and Merlin swatted that, too. Then he grabbed it and held it between both of his own. He looked into Arthur's eyes. 

"The thing is, I already had my birthday in March, and I'm 25,” Merlin said. "I was 20 when we met."

Arthur was shocked. "You really were a kid! And all the times you told me not to call you that," he said. Then the full weight of Merlin's admission sank in. "But how is that true? That means you were born after the births stopped. And why haven't you told me this before?"

"My mother always said that it was just my time to come. She kept me a secret, somehow. I could do magic in my crib, just like Morgan, so she didn't even tell her own family. She left them behind," Merlin said. He was massaging Arthur's hand now, absently, rolling it between his long fingers. "My father was dead, and he'd never told her he had magic."

"Oh," Arthur said. This was a lot to digest. He glanced at Morgan, who was picking dandelions and blowing them, and turned his attention back to Merlin.

"It's why I had to leave my mum. People began to guess about my age, to ask her things. I ran errands in the village, for pocket money, you know. And passing me off as ten when I was really five worked better than 15 and ten. I didn't know why, but she didn't want people to photograph me, or her."

"I see," Arthur said. He didn't, really, but it seemed like the right thing to say. They sat in silence for a moment, and Merlin continued to stroke Arthur's hand.

Merlin said, "Morgana told me about many of her visions: the first time she saw me, the first time she saw my face, the day of her death, and others, too. But she never told me about what happened after I got on the ship. I think Morgause was right, that day you heard them arguing. I think Morgana was lying. She never saw me getting onto the ship or living here. There was no magic telling her what I needed to do. It was just an opinion she had, and the papers were just a way to get you involved." 

Arthur took that in. Even though his view of her had changed completely, he had never really trusted her judgement. It seemed he'd been mistaken about that, also. “If that's true, then I agree with her. It really was the best choice,” he said. “We've all been very happy here.”

Merlin nodded. "I know they would have torn apart the Network to get to us, to study me and Morgan. My mother came to the same conclusion when I was ten and people started to ask questions. We had to give up our home and hide again. It took us a long time to get the money together to pay for forged documents," he said. "I was 17 when I came to Britain. I never saw her again."

"Oh no. Oh, Merlin." He moved to pull Merlin into an embrace.

Merlin allowed himself to be comforted for a moment, but then he sat back and continued. "I think it was just Morgan's time to come into the world, five years ago, too," he said, smiling at Arthur. "And I suppose it was time for you to rescue us, like a hero."

"That isn't how it happened. 25 is far too young to lose your memory," Arthur said, easily. 

"You're right, that's not how it happened at all. I'm glad you haven't forgotten, either, although you were definitely something like a hero," Merlin said, chuckling. He kissed Arthur on the lips, short and sweet. "You are much older than me than you thought, though, aren't you? Bit lecherous, really."

It was Arthur's turn to swat at him, which went on for a little while and turned into tickles and laughter, until Merlin straightened up. He grinned at Arthur.

"As for why I didn't tell you before, it had more to do with the date than the year. Honestly, my age isn't something I dwell on. I think my mother made sure of that," he said. 

"Then why?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, it's soppy. It was because I look forward to the things you and Gwen do for my birthday, and I know you enjoy them, too. I think the crown of daisies last year was my favourite, then the two of you teaching Morgan to do it, so the whole house was full of daisies all spring and summer. And I know they're all your ideas, Arthur, because every one of them is simple and ridiculous," Merlin said, then added, "Just like you."

Arthur pretended to glare at him. "Your birthday tomorrow is cancelled. I'm throwing everything into the ocean and we're never celebrating it again," he said.

They play-fought some more, until Morgan had to come and take their hands and say, "Don't fight!" She was as fierce as Gwen when she was serious about something. Arthur told her they were only playing; he imitated her dangerous expression, and she giggled. Merlin pulled her onto his lap, laughing too, and Arthur wound an arm around his waist.

Before long, Gwen came out and scolded all three of them for waking her up. She had recovered from her injury, but she did use a cane sometimes to get around the small cabin. 

Gwen carefully sat down beside them, leaning her head on Arthur's shoulder, and he put his other arm around her. Together, they watched the sun set over the water, and for Morgan, they named all the colours aloud.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Here is the timeline of events in this fic:
> 
> 1970s: Gaius and Uther are born.  
> 1990s: Morgana is born.  
> 2007: Arthur is born.  
> 2020: Jacob Mills is born.  
> 2021: Births stop worldwide (as far as most people are aware).  
> 2023: Merlin is born.  
> 2043: The main bulk of the story takes place; Morgan is born.  
> 2048: The epilogue takes place.


End file.
